


The Wind That Shakes The Barley

by Lothiriel84



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Drama, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His customary teasing quip died on his lips as soon as he caught a glimpse of the forlorn look on his friend's face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Douglas Richardson

Captain Martin Crieff was the last person Douglas was expecting to show up at his door that evening, but his customary teasing quip died on his lips as soon as he caught a glimpse of the forlorn look on his friend’s face.

Martin turned a blank stare around the living room before slumping onto the sofa, his knees huddled to his chest. Silence stretched between them until Douglas sat down beside him and nudged him gently. “Whatever it is, I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

The young captain stared at him for a silent moment, then handed over a crumpled sheet of paper. Douglas unfolded it, smoothing its edges as he started to read.

 

_My dearest Martin,_

_I know I have no right to intrude into your life, though I hope you’ll excuse a dying woman for indulging in one last whim._

_I’ve been watching you from afar for the past thirty-six years, and I just wanted to let you know how proud I am of what you’ve become. I may have been young and foolish when it all happened, but don’t think for one second I regret bringing you into this world._

_Under different circumstances I would have been overjoyed to be able to call you my son. As it was, adoption was the better option for everyone involved – Mr and Mrs Crieff gave you a warm home to call your own, something I will always be grateful for._

_This is goodbye, darling. Keep fighting for your dreams, they’re always worth it._

_Love,_

_Gladys Tyler_

 

He blinked a couple of times before handing back the letter. “I take it that you confronted your mother about this.”

“I did,” Martin confirmed hollowly. “She couldn’t deny any of it. Apparently this woman made them promise not to tell me the truth, ever.”

“Being faced with one’s own mortality does change people’s perspectives sometimes.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” his friend started helplessly. “This is so sudden, and I just can’t – I don’t even know her, Douglas.”

 _You don’t, but I may_ , he thought but didn’t say. The name rang a faint bell with him, though surely that wasn’t the time or place to dwell on it.

“Do whatever feels right to you. Judging from her letter, I assume that all she really wanted was to get the chance to say goodbye. If you’re up to go and see her, do it; otherwise, give yourself the time to adjust to the notion and get on with your life.”

Martin nodded wearily, a weak smile lighting up his features for a moment. “Mind if I stay here tonight?”

“Not at all. Make yourself at home, mon capitaine.”

Douglas couldn’t help but notice how young his friend looked in his sleep; and vulnerable, so vulnerable it caused an odd lurch somewhere in his chest.

He shook his head as he tiptoed out of the room. There was a call he had to make, an old friend from university that could hopefully provide him with some much needed answers.

As for the rest, he would think about it tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later he was standing at the bedside of Ms Tyler, a sinking feeling clutching at his stomach as soon as the woman opened her eyes and stared back at him.

“Douglas. It’s been a while, isn’t it? You look good.”

“I wish I could return the compliment,” he replied somewhat wistfully. Gone was the magnificent head of ginger curls that had made a younger Douglas Richardson fall for his fellow medical student, and yet her quicksilver eyes were just the same – eyes that bore a striking resemblance to a certain airline captain’s.

“I guess you’re not here for old times’ sake, are you?”

“I’m afraid not. Is there anything you ought to tell me, by any chance?”

She let out a soft sigh. “I hoped that Martin wouldn’t choose you of all people as his confidant.”

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s my captain, Gladys – and my friend, for goodness’ sake. Don’t you think I had the right to know?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured wearily, her eyes fluttering shut out of grief and exhaustion.

Douglas stormed out of the hospital and into his Lexus, only stopping on his way home in order to purchase an item he’d previously vowed not to ever touch again.

Too bad that he couldn’t care less at this moment in time.

 

* * *

 

It was Martin who found him slumped over the kitchen table, his friend’s concerned voice cutting through the haze that currently shrouded his brain.

“Douglas, can you hear me? I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” he slurred, his hand shaking painfully as he tried to reached for the half-empty glass.

Martin promptly snatched it out of his reach, his hand resting firmly on his shoulder. “You’ve had more than enough, especially for someone who hasn’t drunk for a decade.”

“Needed it,” he muttered bitterly; apparently the alcohol had done nothing to chase away the aching feeling in his chest.

“Oh, you clot,” Martin exclaimed, and all of a sudden he found himself in the fiery grip of two strong arms. “Gladys told me everything last night, before she passed away.”

Douglas stiffened in something dangerously close to panic, but the other simply refused to let him go.

“I’m sorry, Martin,” he sobbed in spite of himself. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea…”

“Shush, we’ll talk when you’ve sobered up.”

And he did shut up, allowing his friend – his son – to guide him to his bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed. The last thing his mind registered was a gentle hand running through his hair, the soothing touch lulling him to a peaceful sleep.


	2. Martin Crieff

Douglas was the best friend he’d ever had, Martin decided as he drifted off that night – on his first officer’s comfortable sofa, no less. The unexpected revelation about his real mother had quite upset him; his pessimistic side kept pointing out that he’d never been wanted in the first place, though his rational side reminded him that his adoptive family had welcomed him of their own free will.

Only now he understood how much MJN Air had acted as a surrogate family for him in the past few years. Carolyn’s company was the living proof that everybody deserved a second chance, no matter what; that was why he eventually decided he would at least look the woman who’d given birth to him in the eye before she died.

Ms Tyler offered him a warm smile as he swallowed his nerves and walked into the hospital room. “Look at yourself, Martin. An airline captain. I’ve always known you’d make it.”

“Did you?” he couldn’t help but ask. Nobody had ever believed he would succeed, and there had been times when he’d hardly believed it himself.

“It’s in your blood, after all. Your father wanted to fly too.”

“Oh,” Martin exhaled, realizing that he’d quite forgotten to take his unknown father into account. “Was he a pilot then?”

The woman shook her head. “Not when I met him, though he is now.”

“I see,” he replied slowly, unsure how he felt about that. Would a proper pilot be ashamed of a son that had taken seven goes to get his licence? Did he know he had a son in the first place?

“Be gentle to him, Martin. He’s not the unsentimental bastard he pretends to be.”

A strange sense of foreboding lurched in his stomach as he mustered the courage to ask the crucial question. “What’s his name?”

 

* * *

 

 _Damn it, Douglas_ , he thought upon finding his – friend – lying in a drunken stupor, an empty bottle of whisky at his side. Martin himself had needed some time to process the full extent of the revelation, and yet he wasn’t actually expecting the great Douglas Richardson to be so distraught.

For a terrible moment he debated whether he should drag his first officer to the nearest A & E, only to heave a sigh of relief when the other finally managed a somewhat coherent reply. In the end he settled for dragging the maudlin drunk to his bed and waiting for him to sleep it off.

Douglas looked utterly grateful for the large glass of water he was offered upon waking. “Serves me right,” he muttered, clutching at his head, and Martin secretly prayed that meant he’d learnt his lesson.

“One would think you should know better than that, Dad,” he murmured wryly, the corners of his mouth turning up in something close enough to a smirk.

The older man shot him a withering glare. “Don’t you dare.”

“What?” Martin shrugged somewhat defiantly. “You’re the one who claimed you were old enough to be my father, remember? Turns out you were right, after all.”

There was a pause as Douglas eyed him warily. “Do you mind?”

“I don’t think I do,” he replied slowly, meeting his friend’s gaze. “Do you?”

“Not at all,” the other said with conviction, and they both smiled.


	3. Carolyn Knapp-Shappey

Her pilots were acting weird, and she didn’t know what to make of it. Not to mention the fact that a moping Martin Crieff was nothing if compared to an oddly quiet Douglas Richardson, who wasn’t anywhere near his usual arrogant self.

The straw that broke the camel’s back came one morning as she was reprimanding the ridiculous captain for yet another expensive diversion.

“What were you thinking, Martin?” she chided him, and that was when the first officer unexpectedly cut in.

“Leave the boy alone, Carolyn, will you?” he snapped, rendering her speechless for a moment.

Martin was staring at Douglas as if he couldn’t quite believe it, and for a good reason; the older man rarely supported anyone but himself, and as a rule he’d rather tease the lad than back him up.

“Douglas, you don’t have to –,” the ginger pilot started tentatively, only to snap his mouth shut when the other abruptly left the Portakabin.

Carolyn blinked in utter confusion, and Martin shot her a nervous glance. “I’m sorry – I’d better go after him,” he mutter apologetically before hurrying to the door.

She slumped back onto her chair, wondering whether the end of the world was upon them. Or maybe she was dreaming – that sounded definitely more likely than the other option.

 

* * *

 

As much as she hated meddling in the private life of her employees, she needed to know what was going on in case it turned out to be something potentially dangerous for her company; that was why she eventually forced herself to walk into her plane and look for the pilots.

Apparently her son had interrupted the hoovering in favour of making hot beverages for the two idiots; the boy sounded even more excited than he usually was, and that was saying something given Arthur’s cheery temperament.

“Dare I ask what’s going on, gentlemen?” she demanded upon stepping into the cabin, gracefully ignoring the way Martin’s hand was resting on his first officer’s shoulder.

“Mum, this is the most brilliant thing ever!” Arthur promptly chimed in. “A bit like Star Wars, you know.”

The reference was completely lost on the younger pilot, Carolyn noted in mild amusement – while Douglas’ glare went blissfully unnoticed by her son. She raised a questioning eyebrow, and that was when Martin decided to elaborate on Arthur’s incoherent remark.

“I suppose he means I’ve been reunited with my biological father at last. Sort of, anyway.”

A frown creased her brow. Surely Mrs Crieff hadn’t –

“Turns out I’ve been adopted,” the captain hastened to explain, while Douglas all but rolled his eyes.

“Now we’re really like a family, aren’t we?” Arthur added brightly, and she couldn’t help but smile.


	4. Arthur Shappey

He was halfway through his hoovering duties when Douglas burst into the cabin, and he paused, suddenly unsure about what he was supposed to do. The other man didn’t offer any explanation, just slumped into one of the seats and drew a weary hand over his face.

“Douglas?” he tried, but got no answer. A moment later Skip entered the cabin, clearly looking for the first officer, and Arthur heaved a sigh of relief. Skip would know how to handle this, whatever it was.

“I think you’ve just succeeded in baffling Carolyn,” Martin murmured, half teasing, half serious.

Arthur waited for a scathing reply that never came, then decided some tea and sympathy was definitely required. So he dashed to the galley and made two cups, because that was what he was good at, and he loved helping.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the effort, Douglas,” he heard Skip saying as he stepped back into the cabin. “But I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”

“I think I do, actually.”

“Look, this thing between us doesn’t change anything. We’re still – oh, here you are, Arthur.”

“Yep,” he nodded somewhat apologetically. “I bring tea.”

“I suppose I could use a cup,” Douglas shrugged noncommittally, and Arthur couldn’t help but beam at him.

“Sorry to interrupt, guys, but am I allowed to ask what’s the matter?”

“The supreme commander seems to think that any attempt at ‘protecting’ him is beneath his dignity,” the older man said flatly, and Martin promptly huffed in annoyance.

“That’s not what I meant. Stop twisting my words.”

“You know, Skip, you sound a bit like Minty when she argued with her Dad. Surely it’s brilliant to have someone looking after us, isn’t it?”

The two men exchanged a panicked look, and he hastened to apologize. “I know, I know, I’m a clot. Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Actually, Arthur, you’re anything but,” Skip acknowledged slowly. “Douglas, I think we should tell him.”

“Ooh, is it a secret? I love secrets.”

“Go ahead, then,” the first officer conceded after a moment, and Martin shot him a lopsided smile.

“Arthur, the reason for Douglas’ unaccountable paternal attitude is that we’ve just discovered he’s indeed my real father.”

“Oh.”

His friends stared expectantly at him as the whole extent of the revelation started to sink in. “Oh,” he exhaled again, and broke into a grin. “Now that’s the most brilliant thing I’ve ever heard!”

He just couldn’t wait to tell Mum.


End file.
